1 My God, my Father, while I stray
Far from my home in life's rough way,
O teach me from my heart to say,
"Thy will be done."

2 Though dark my path, and sad my lot,
Let me be still and murmur not,
Or breathe the prayer Divinely taught,
"Thy will be done."

3 What though in lonely grief I sigh
For friends beloved, no longer nigh,
Submissive still would I reply,
"Thy will be done."

4 If Thou shouldst call me to resign
What most I prize -- it ne'er was mine:
I only yield Thee what was Thine --
"Thy will be done."

5 Let but my fainting heart be blest
With Thy sweet Spirit for its Guest,
My God, to Thee I leave the rest;
"Thy will be done."

6 Renew my will from day to day,
Blend it with Thine, and take away
All that now makes it hard to say,
"Thy will be done."